Malana Smith
Contemporary Moral
Problems
Morality Paper 1
1-22-14
Unmerrited
It was probably one of the stupidest
decisions I had ever made in my life. When the situation is put on paper, it
seems as if justifications for my decision were selfish, irrelevant, and
immature. But what else would you expect from an over-confident eighteen year
old who acted as though she was thirty and even found pride within this
identity?
Oddly enough, though the decision
was based out of selfish ambition and the inability to see above my
circumstances, I would never change it. Do I believe it was wrong? Absolutely.
Do I believe there could have been a better response? Certainly. Do I believe
my life would be better if I had not made that decision? Never. I never knew
that leaving my family when they desperately needed me would change my life
like it did. I never knew that moving out and leaving my father and mother
incapable of providing for their family would give me a prospective I never had
before. I never knew that good could ever come out of stupidity- and not from
my own works. Grace was applied, humbling took place, and maturity was gained. But
most importantly, I understood the true value of love and grace; especially after it was shown to me by
those I hurt the most.
It all started when my dad lost his license.
My father was the only driver of our
family, the sole provider, and my family only had one vehicle. I had a
learner’s permit, but could not drive without someone else in the vehicle. I
got a call one day during class from my mom and she explained that my dad had
lost his license because someone from another state with the same name had a
few tickets that were unpaid. The DMV refused to give him his license until he
could get a letter from the state of North Carolina stating he was not this
man. The courts in North Carolina told him it would be about two weeks- my
family did not have two weeks to wait. My dad was just hired on his job after
being on unemployment for almost a year and we were drowning in our finances. I
had a job and paid for my own phone and other necessities, but it was not
nearly enough to help out with bills. Our house was being foreclosed. My father
getting to work was nonnegotiable.
My mother also informed me that we
received our tax returns that day so we would be okay financially, but dad
could not lose his job. My parents promised me a thousand dollars if I
graduated with a certain grade point average and I was planning on buying
myself a car with the money. So I jumped on the opportunity to kill two birds
with one stone. I buy my car if they will pay for the insurance, and in return,
I’ll take my dad for work for two weeks. So we went to work.
Within a week, I had bought a car,
missed five days of school in attempts to take my driver’s test (one of the
most absurd processes ever), and finally gained my license and began to take my
father to work. I honestly thought I could handle it- in fact, I felt like a
hero. I did not realize the responsibility that came with this agreement I had
made. I believe my parents thought there were unspoken agreements that since they
had paid for my insurance (though I still had to pay them back), that I had to
take them anywhere they needed when they needed or just wanted to. At the time,
I was going to high school, taking night school for cosmetology (which at the
time, I needed to do night school in order to graduate on time or I would be
unable to get my degree), a worship leader for my church which came with
responsibilities such as picking kids up for church and going to practices and
services, and I had a part time job in the JC Penny Portrait studio. As I began
taking my dad to and from work, his work schedule prevented me from going to
night school. I would be okay as long as it was not any longer than the two
weeks in agreement. I could make that up as needed. But something within my
household changed when I became the transportation- my parents (especially my
mother) began to make me feel guilty for being the transportation. She made me
feel as if I owed them because of the insurance money, even though I would
still have to pay them back. My dysfunctional household became an even greater
war-zone as my mother began to purposefully express that she was the authority
in the household to establish that she was the parent and I was the child.
Later on, I figured out that she was doing this out of insecurity because she
felt as if she could not take care of her family and had to rely on her
daughter. In order to make sure I would not “overstep my bounds” as a daughter,
she did power plays to exercise her authority. This was quite unpleasant.
The stress the situation caused
began to really wear me down. I had too much on my plate- and I knew it. I could not back out though- they needed me! I
looked forward to the end of my two weeks. I knew they needed my help and I had
volunteered. There was no backing out.
One day, about a week and a half into driving, I come home
to find my mother livid. Turns out, the courts of North Carolina said it could
take up to three months before they could get the papers to my dad. Three
months! I could not handle it for that long. By then I would be graduated (if I
even had the ability) and there was no way I would be able to finish
cosmetology school. I became fed up with the whole situation and looked at my
mother and said, “Well, I guess it’s a good time for you to get a license. And
a car. And a job. I can’t do this for three months,” and then I walked to my
room and slammed the door. I felt that it was about time she started doing
something for her family instead of being on the sidelines as I did it. She
subbed at a local elementary school a few times a week, but there was no
constant money flow and barely enough pay as it was. When she was not working,
she was in the living room playing with beads. She was not doing housework or
much else that would benefit the family. And as the adult of the house and the
“authority” she needed to be the one to take her husband to work. I was hurting
my chances of having a successful future by trying to fix my parent’s present.
And I could not do both.
The final tipping point was that
Saturday after I got off of work. I realized my cell phone had been cut off
because I mixed up the dates of my paycheck. I had money saved up at my
boyfriend’s parent’s house so I called them to let them know I was on my way to
come pick it up. I had a dinner to go to at church that night and I needed to
deposit the money before I went. I knew I was low on gas, so I called my
grandfather from my work phone to see if I could “take him up on that tank of
gas” he promised me when I passed my driver’s test because I was “out of gas”.
He explained to me that my grandmother was the one who handled the money and he
was not sure if they had enough at the moment. He told me she was currently at
work, but would be off after six and I could call her then. I thanked him then
hung up the phone and went to my boyfriend’s house.
When I got there, Travis (my
boyfriend) was watching a basketball game. I stuck around a few minutes after
grabbing the money. While watching the game, Travis gets a phone call from my
mother for some odd reason, wondering if I am there. Travis gives me the phone
and I come to find that my mother is wondering why I was not at work. I
explained to her about the money and the phone and she replied with, “well,
your grandfather want to speak with you,” she then handed the phone over to my
grandpa. I was entirely confused. Why was my grandpa with my mom?
Grandpa gets on the phone and tells
me I need to get me a** to my job “right now” and then hangs up on me. Totally
lost as to what is going on, I head out and arrive at the JC Penny parking lot,
thinking this is one big misunderstanding. I would explain what happened, get
the gas I need, and then head to the bank. All will be well with the world. If
only.
I found my mother and grandfather
standing next to my grandfather’s truck and my grandfather was holding a
plastic red gas can. The confusion continued. I make my way towards them,
smiling, asking them “what’s up” and immediately my grandfather jumped on me
with, “how dare you not even tell your own flesh and blood that your phone is
off, then not let your parents know that you aren’t even at work! We were here
thinking that you were stranded on the side of the road without any gas so I
rushed up here to find that your mother didn’t even know what was going on!”
He then proceeded to walk hastily
toward my vehicle. Mom was saying something in support of what my grandfather
was talking about, but I could not hear her over my grandfather’s yelling. “And
don’t you even think you’re going to get that full tank of gas now. You’re
going to get what’s in this gas-can and that’s it! And don’t you dare step one
foot into my house again without my permission!” my grandfather then unscrewed
the gas cap and put the gas in the car. I cannot remember what my mom was
saying because I was in a daze. I had no idea what was going on! I tried to
explain myself over and over again, explaining that this was just one big
understanding. But no one would listen to me. We had a yell-out in the middle
of the JC Penny parking lot and it got to the point that someone yelled to us
that we needed to “do that at home”. By this time, I am balling my eyes out and
without any opportunities for explanation, my mother and grandfather walk away
and leave.
I
was left standing by my driver’s side of my gold Saturn, wondering what just
happened. I get in my car and I begin to sob incessantly. No one wanted to hear
me out, I barely had any money, I was unsure if I could ever go to my
grandfather’s house again, and my mother did not even try to defend me as my
grandfather chewed me out over something I did not mean to do. They both ganged
up on me. By this time, I was exhausted from working a full shift, stressed
about the car situation and hurt from what just happened with my grandfather. I
did not know what to do. I just knew I was tired- tired of everything. I began
praying to God as to what to do. I drove to the bank to insert the money so I
could pay my phone bill online. I was still in work clothes and needed to
change for the dinner, but home was the last place I wanted to go at that time.
I was lost.
I finally decided to head to the
church. I looked like a mess, but that was my home away from home and I knew it
would be safe there. I tried to compose myself as I walked into the church, but
I lasted three minutes before I had to run back to my car for another crying
jig. A bit later, the dinner had already started and I became composed enough
to go back inside. I stood in line to get food, but a lady named Erica saw that
my face was red from crying and asked if everything was okay. I looked at her
and immediately began crying again. She then led me to the hallway to talk.
We talked for about an hour. Many
things were talked about such as the fact that it was not my responsibility as
a child to take care of my parents and that I should not have that weight on my
shoulders at such a young age and I cannot save them. This habit of leaning on
people had become a lifestyle for my parents where they would use whoever would
give them the ability to survive until the person’s resources dried up and they
were forced to find found another. It was parasitical, and I was now the new
resource. My future was at stake and she explained to me that helping them was
actually detrimental because it was enabling them. This pattern was not going to end with me.
God would take care of them, but maybe I needed to get my hands off of the
situation and allow God to help them instead. I could not be their God. They
needed to lean on Him and in order to do that, I had to get my hands out of it.
I knew that as long as I lived under their roof, I would
have no choice but to be there transportation or they could take away any
rights I had that would affect responsibilities I had to maintain. They could
take my car away even though I paid for it. They could make me quite my job
that I needed to pay bills; they could force me not to go to church. I could
not risk another power play. I felt my only option was to move out. I could not
do it anymore.
I had faith that God would take care of them, and I knew
what position I was putting them in. But I had to believe God would help them,
just like He had done for them on
numerous occasions. When I told people about my decision that night, almost all
of them were not surprised. Many of them saw it coming before it did. The next
day I told my father. That was probably one of the hardest three minutes of my
life. The fact was that I was eighteen so there was nothing he could do about
it. Later that night, I moved out all of my things and stayed with a church family
for a week. Then God brought me a place to live for free until I went to
college that even had a private bathroom and I could come and go as I pleased.
I found out that I was not able to graduate high school because of all the days
I missed, so a few months before graduation, I was put in a program that
allowed me finish up the credits I needed to graduate. I then spent the rest of
my senior semester finishing my cosmetology degree. I got a job at a salon
where I made about sixteen dollars an hour and lived on my own until college
started.
My
dad got his license back two days after I moved out. All my parents did was
call the DMV and they fixed it in their computers- over the phone.
Many
may wonder why I think that moving out was the stupidest decision I ever made.
Where was the harm, right? I got the freedom I needed, my dad got his license
back, and I became successful. The truth is, is that a decision should never be
made out of emotions and impulsively. When I moved out, I tore a hole in my
parent’s and my relationship. My father forgave me, but it took months before
my mother would speak to me. I did not see my family for months, and when I
did, I felt so uncomfortable and unwelcome. My mother never checked up on me
and did not even know where I lived for six months. My mother started filling
my sister’s heads with bad things about me, saying how I was a horrible person
and that they should not forgive me for what I did. My baby sister, Deanna, had
a hard time because she was who I was closest with. I tried my best to be there
for them and to explain to them why I moved out, but they barely saw me. They
did see mom every day, though. My family and I had a lot of emotional turmoil
because of it and healing that needed to be done.
A
few months after I moved out, I still swore that I was not wrong in my decision
and that I was entirely justified. I felt that I was walking in love by not
allowing them to lean on me in support. I thought that the good that came out
of it (such as my dad getting his license back so soon, the Lord providing a
place to live for free until college, and even my job) was proof that I did the
right thing. Then I finally humbled myself and became honest with God. I
finally shut-up long enough to listen to what He had to say on the subject.
He
told me that, even though in this world a child is not supposed to be
responsible for their parents, I was His daughter first and I am commanded to
love. Love always persevered and is not self-seeking- something I did not do.
He would have taken care of me if I would have stayed, just as He took care of
me when I left. Since I was His daughter first, that superseded the fact that I
was my parent’s daughter in this world, and because of that, it was my
responsibility to help them anyway and keep my word. They depended on me to
help them. They did not want to be dependent on me any more than I wanted to
provide for them. They were very scared after I left them out to dry. He showed
me that the reason everything turned out as well as it did was because of His
love and grace. Even though I messed up, His grace abounded and provided what
each of us needed. But, this was nothing compared to the good He could have
done in me and my parent’s life if I would have stayed. Who knows what would
have happened. I would not have the dissension between me and my family- that
was for sure. Forgiveness and unmerited favor was there. I later sent a letter
to my parent’s apologizing for what I had done. It was out of selfishness and
fear. I made an impulsive decision that –thank God- I did not have to pay the
price for.
Since
then, my family has become a stronger unit and I am happier than I have ever
been. I could not imagine life being any different. My family and I are closer
than we have ever been, but it took a lot of pain, heart-ache, and humbling to
get here. Only grace can do that. I do not deserve it at all, but my family and
God have forgiven me and even blessed me anyway.
Was moving out the wrong thing to do? Yes. Can
I change it? No. Do I want to? Not at all.
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